Stakeout
by Djinn1
Summary: Because, at the end of the day, Batman is still just a guy. BM & WW fic.


Stakeout by Djinn

The night wore on, a light breeze rolling in from San Francisco Bay. Bruce muffled a groan as his leg began to cramp.

"This is what you do, Bruce? Night after night? Crouch in the shadows on some rooftop?" Diana's leg must have been cramping, too, because she stretched out, lying on her side, head propped up as if they were at a teenage slumber party.

Bruce wondered if she had any idea what that position did to her breasts. Wondrous did not begin to cover it.

She smiled at him. Her innocent, "I have no idea what my dazzling white teeth surrounded by these lips does to men" smile. Or maybe she practiced it in the mirror? He wouldn't put it past her. She'd probably view it as just another form of warfare. She loved to go all whup-ass when she could, but she was also a master tactician, and there were times when seduction was more efficient than beating the crap out of someone.

"I prefer a more direct form of crime-fighting," she said.

"No kidding?"

"Oh, like you don't enjoy watching me go to town?" She shifted, leaning in. Everything came closer.

He sighed happily. Sure, they were on a shit-hole roof in a strange city. But he was crouching in the shadows with her. He imagined there were a ton of men who'd change places with him. And a lot of women, too. Women who'd never even thought of being gay--Diana had that effect on people.

Not that Bruce had ever thought about Diana with another woman. Another woman like say Hawkgirl. Or maybe Black Canary. With him in the room. On the bed. The center of their considerable attention.

"Earth to Batman."

Visions of Diana and Dinah crashed as he forced himself back to a not-so-friendly world. "I'm here."

She leaned in. "Are you blushing?"

Damn. Could she see in the dark? He knew she could, but that well? That kind of night vision could make navigating under the sheets pretty sweet.

"Bruce?"

He forced his mind out of the nasty place. Bad mind! Stay out of the gutter.

Diana is not a sex toy.

By her look, he realized he'd just said that out loud.

She started to laugh. "What is it about me? It's as if you look at me and immediately start fantasizing. By 'you' I mean anyone within twenty feet." She shook her head, as if this was a very hard math problem.

"Diana, you do own a mirror, right?"

"Yes."

Good--his "practicing the smile offense" theorem still worked.

"But so what? I'm not that pretty. Not when compared to some of my sisters back on Themyscira."

"Well, we're not on Themyscira."

"I know, but there are plenty of beautiful women on this continent, too."

"Yes, but they aren't running around in a skimpy uniform kicking bad-guy butt."

"True." She looked down and seemed to realize what was happening with her cleavage, because she sat up really fast. "Do you think this is skimpy?"

"Compared to what?" He was bombarded with teen fashion every time Tim brought some of his female friends around. Diana's get-up was positively modest--it wasn't her fault her figure could turn any outfit into a seduction fantasy. He imagined her in a habit. Yep, still sexy.

"So, you do think it's skimpy?"

"Well, it's less skimpy than those dress things you wear back on Themyscira. The ones with no underwear."

She raised an eyebrow.

Oh, shit. He'd never actually been on Themyscira with her when she wore one. With no underwear.

The nasty place was calling again.

"Are you spying on me?"

"As if." Teen lingo was pretty damn handy. Snaps to Tim for keeping him current.

She just smiled. "Bruce, I can think of ten women on the island who are prettier than I am."

"Only ten? Out of how many? You think pretty highly of yourself, don't you, Princess?"

She glared at him. Even a glare was sexy on her. "It's not a scientific assessment, and I was thinking of those I know the best." She looked over at their subject's apartment window in an obvious ploy to change the subject. "Does he do anything but watch TV?"

Bruce glanced back. "He's scratched himself a couple of times. And that's his third refill of Mountain Dew."

"My mistake. So...what do I do when I'm lounging around Themyscira with no underwear?"

He hadn't expected her to return to the subject. That kind of unpredictability was what made her such a tough opponent. She zigged when he thought she'd zag.

"You want a rundown?" At her nod, he said, "Well, you ride horses--doesn't that hurt?"

Another glare.

"You eat. A lot. You study and swim and sleep." She also touched herself while murmuring his name. But that part was just in the fantasy version that ran in his head disturbingly often.

"You're blushing again."

"Am not."

"Are, too." She stretched out, giving him another great boob shot. And he knew she knew what she was doing. He also knew she knew he knew that, too. And she knew that--no, that last one was enough.

"What do you think about when you look at them?"

"At...them?" He gestured at her boobs.

"No. At the people you watch?" But her smile was a sneaky one. Like no matter what he'd answered, she would have gone the other way.

"I don't think. I just watch."

"You just watch? For hours? No thinking for the Batman?" She inched a little closer.

"Watch out for splinters, Princess."

"I'm a trained warrior. A splinter won't stop me." She moved closer still. "Besides, you'd get it out for me, wouldn't you?"

With his teeth, if she asked him to.

She was close enough for him to reach out and touch them--err, her. He backed up a bit farther into the shadows.

"Scared?"

"Terrified." He tried to load massive amounts of Batman-enabled scorn into his voice. It was always option one in difficult situations. He didn't do a very good job, though.

She sat up. "Are you?"

"Am I what?" When in doubt, go with option two: playing dumb. A tried and true method of males everywhere.

"Afraid of me?"

"Why would I be afraid of you?" Option three came into play: answering a question with another question.

"Because you want me."

"You just said that everyone wants you. If everyone wants you and I'm part of everyone, then ergo I must want you." Option four: logic.

"Ergo?"

"Ergo." He shrugged. As if the discussion was over. Option five: the graceful exit.

"So, you do want me?" Diana did not, apparently, recognize option five.

"I just said so. End of story."

"But with you it's different."

"And why is that?"

"Because I want you, too."

He swallowed so hard the Bay Area earthquake detectors probably registered it as a seismic event.

"What do you think of that?" She rolled to her back, putting her arms behind her head as she stared up at the stars.

Think? He was pretty far from thought. He was so deep in fantasy-ville he wasn't sure he'd ever dig himself out. "Very funny, Diana." It was the best he could do.

"You think I'm teasing you?"

"You tease Clark all the time."

"Well, sure. He's spoken for. It's all in good fun." She glanced at him. "He's a really good kisser, by the way."

"I know."

Her eyebrows rose so fast they looked like they might achieve liftoff.

"Lois told me."

"Oh. I thought we were going to go to a much more interesting place." Then she frowned. "Why would she tell you something like that?"

He let a Bat-smirk be his answer.

"Fine. Forget I said anything."

As if. He'd be replaying her words for like ever.

"After all, you're probably quite happy cuddling up with Slutwoman."

"You mean Catwoman?"

"Isn't that what I said?" She actually batted her eyelashes at him. He hadn't realized she could even do that. She just had to be practicing this stuff.

"Maybe I misunderstood. Your accent and all." He grinned at her. She'd gotten rid of her accent a long time ago, probably when she was practicing "Amazon Tactics Addendum One: Seducing the Enemy."

"I guess curling up with her would be all right. If you don't mind fleas."

He started to laugh. That was too low for her to be anything but seriously pissed at him. "I'm Batman. Fleas fear me."

"Right." She rolled over, taking away the cleavage and replacing it with her amazing tush. Men would willingly write epic poems to an ass like that. Hell, he could think of one right now. Or maybe a limerick, anyway. There once was a girl named Diana--

"Do you think Catwoman's pretty?" she asked.

Just as well. Devil to rhyme anything with her name. "Everyone thinks she is."

"I don't."

"You haven't even met her."

She rolled back over. "I've seen pictures."

"Pictures don't do her justice. She has a certain spirit that only translates live." Was it bad and wrong to say he fantasized about Selina, too? He didn't tend to include anyone else with her, however. She was too bad tempered to try that kind of stuff with.

Not that Diana was the poster child for mellow.

Diana, who was being very quiet.

"You still there?" he asked gently.

"Yes."

"Now you're mad."

"Am not." He heard the sound of shingles being ripped up by Amazon fingernails.

"No?"

"No."

A silence fell, and Bruce looked over at their subject, who had fallen asleep on the couch. The glow of the TV lit him in kind of a weird tableau effect.

Diana sat up suddenly. "You don't need me here for this."

He could tell she was about to launch. "Don't go." He reached out, touched her leg. Her very warm, very soft leg. He'd imagined her legs around him, crushing him--but in a good way, not in a "smoosh you like a bug" way.

"But you don't need me here, do you?" She jerked her leg away.

"You're right. I don't. But I do want you here. So, why don't you sit back down?"

With an Amazon-sized sigh, she sat down. "I don't know why I even try with you."

"Charm. Wit. Lots and lots of cash."

She laughed--despite herself from the way she cut it off. "You forgot your happy-go-lucky personality."

"That, too." This time, he inched closer to her. "Well, and I am very, very handsome."

"Egomaniac."

"Yes, that's another of my fabulous traits." He moved close enough for his leg to press up against hers. It was a fabulous feeling. "So, you were serious? You weren't just teasing me?"

"Why would I tease you? Who in their right mind would tease you?"

"You show a certain lack of fear where I'm concerned." It was, in fact, why he liked hanging around her. She never seemed afraid he'd go all Batman on her.

"It's bravado. You terrify me." She sounded serious.

"Batman terrifies you? Or Bruce Wayne does?"

"Yes." Diana must be operating under his difficult discussion rules. She'd just tried option six: the non-answer.

He let her non-answer swing in the wind, waiting with Bat-patience for her to burst out with more.

Amazons, it turned out, could outwait a Batman. Good to know. His brain would no doubt incorporate that into a fantasy.

"Have you ever...?" he finally asked.

"Of course I have."

Damn. There went all his "Introduce Diana to sex" fantasies.

"With women, but I have."

His fantasies came roaring back with supercollider force. "Oh," he managed to squeak out.

"I didn't say I wanted to have sex with you."

"You said you wanted me, Diana. Sex is implied."

"Maybe I want you for conversation?"

"For that we use the all purpose 'I really like you...as a friend' approach. And I think you know this."

He was pretty sure she stuck her tongue out at him. "So you've...thought about it? With me, I mean?" He really didn't want to hear a detailed account of how she'd envisioned a three-way with Flash and Lantern.

Or J'onn. Who could be whoever you wanted him to be. Bruce was pretty sure they'd all thought about that at one time or another. Would it make you gay if you were doing a guy who was, for all intents and purposes, female at the time?

Diana shifted, and her leg pressing harder against his brought him back to the real issue.

"Have you thought about being with me?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Was I...good in these fantasies?" He kept his voice light. He thought that was important for them. That they keep it fun, the way their earlier banter had been.

She laughed softly. "Yes. But then...what the hell would I know?"

"True." He realized he was sweating just about every place a man wearing a suddenly very hot uniform could sweat. His heart was racing, and his vision had gone a little funny.

Simply talking about sex with her made him nervous. And he was the freakin' Batman. A normal person probably would have died of heart failure by now.

"When you did it the other times. With the women"--his mind took a salacious turn down Naughty Street--"you were close to. Did you enjoy it?"

"If you'd ever had an Amazon doing her utmost to give you pleasure, you wouldn't ask me that, Bruce."

"Toots, I fantasize about that nightly."

Oh, shit. He'd said that inner comment out loud, hadn't he?

She mock-punched him. "It's very enjoyable," she said, sounding more than a little smug.

"I'm sure it is." He felt like he was a teenager again. Awkward and unsure what to do. In the fashion of boys everywhere, he went for the "stretch and land." His arm fell a little too heavily on her shoulder, but she was meta--she could take it.

She started to laugh. "I saw that move once. On a television show."

Damn this modern age! Giving away men's trusted secrets.

"It's very effective when done by a superhero."

He decided he could forgive the modern age. "Is it?"

She leaned into him, and he got a better hold on her. He would not, under any circumstances, go for the "drop and grope."

"There was this other move--are you going to try that?" she asked.

"Did it involve breasts?"

"Why, yes, I believe it did."

"Very bad tactics. Premature. Sure sign of a rank amateur." He pulled his hand up a little.

"The girl had some moves, too. In this show I watched..."

"She did?" He hadn't meant to put quite that much interest in his voice.

"Mmmm-huh." She leaned in again, turning toward him, putting her hand on his thigh.

Oh, sweet mother of all that was holy, Diana's hand was on his thigh.

And moving.

Up.

If the Earth exploded right at this moment, he'd die an ecstatic man.

"Diana, why don't we adjourn to the mansion?"

"That would be lovely but we have a job to do." She started to lift her hand from his thigh, but he slammed it back down, so she pointed with her other one toward the guy sleeping happily on his couch. "What did he do, anyway, to deserve your interest?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Not that I know of." He was grinning.

"He's not a criminal?"

"No. But this is a great rooftop for a quiet chat, don't you think?"

"You asked me here so we could...talk? Because you wanted to spend time with me?"

"I did." Option seven: honesty.

"Then I'm really glad that I wanted you before I found out. Because I'd hate to fall for a lame ploy like this." She sounded very pleased with him, though.

"I agree: that would suck." So the wrong word to use at this moment. Parts of his brain started to merrily process all the ways suck might apply to their current situation.

While he was still capable of higher thought, he pulled her to him and kissed her as tenderly as he knew how. She kissed him back the same way, and the wayward bits came swarming back to brain central so they could enjoy the show, too.

He eased away enough to say, "Wow."

"That, by the way, wasn't my utmost." She kissed his cheek, moving toward his ear, biting down gently--every nerve ending he had was now centered in his ear.

"No?" It hadn't been his utmost, either. But unlike her, he didn't tend to brag before a skirmish.

"Can we go now?" She managed to stand up without letting go--or seeming to lose any points of contact. Meta was definitely the way to go

His arms were already around her, so he just tightened his grip as she lifted off. He looked over at the complete stranger, who had woken up and was rubbing his eyes blearily. "I'm going to give his kid a trust fund or something."

Diana laughed and kissed him as she flew them toward Gotham. He was about to warn her to watch for low-flying craft, but then she turned the utmost-meter up, and he decided she was a big girl and could get them there without his help.

Besides, he'd have plenty of opportunity to help later.

FIN


End file.
